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THE LIFE 



OF 



COL. JAMES GARDINER. 






c. 



''OLONEL JAMES GARDINER was the son of 
Captain Patrick Gardiner, who served many years ia 
the armies of King William and Queen Anae; and 
died abroad with the British forces in Germany. 

The ColoneKs mother was aiady of very excellent 
character ; but it pleased God to exercise her with 
uncommon trials; for she lost not only her husband 
and her brother, in the service of their country, but 
also Ler eldest son, Mr. R. Gardiner, on the day 
which compleated his 16th year, at the siege of Namur, 
in 1695. But ^God blessed these afflictions as tlm 
means of forming her to an eminent degree of piety. > 

The second son, the subject of this Meii^oir, was 
born in Linlithgowshire, Jan. 10, 1687-8; the memo- 
rable year of the glorious revolution, in defence of 
^vhich his own life was eventually sacrificed. 

In early life his mother took care to instruct him 
with great tenderness and affection in the principles of 
true Christianity. While at the school at Linlithgow^ 
he made a considerable progress in literature. 



-U/M,^7 



'( 2 ) .&2 



M^ 



111 the younger part of his life, the good effects of 
his mother's prudent and exemplary care were not so 
conspicuous as she hoped ; yet there is great reason 
to believe they were not entirely lost. Could she have 
I prevailed, he would not have thought of a military 
life ; but it suited his taste ; and the ardour of his 
spirit, animated by the persuasions of a friend who 
greatly urged it, was not to be restrained. Nor will 
the reader wonder at this, when he knows that this 
lively youth fought three duels before he attained the 
stature of a man; in one of which, when but eight 
years old, he received from a boy much older than 
himself a wound in his right cheek, the scar of which 
was always very apparent. This false sens^ of honour 
might seem excusable in those unripened years, and 
considering the profession of his father ; but he oftea 
mentioned it with regret. And after his con'versioii 
he declined accepting a challenge with this truly great 
reply, which in a man of his experienced bravery, 
v/as exceedingly graceful : *' I fear sinning," said he, 
*' though you know I do not fear fighting.'^ 

He served as a cadet very early; and, at 14 years 
old, he bore an ensign's commission in a Scotch re- 
giment in the Dutch servrce ; in which he continued 
till 1702, when he received an ensign's commission 
from Queen Anne, which lie bore in tiie battle of Ra- 
milies, in his 19th year. 

On this occasion, our young officer was commanded 
on what seemed almost a desperate service, to dispos- 
sess the French of the church-yard at Ramilies, where 
a considerable number of them were posted to re- 
markable advantage. They succeeded better than 
was expected, and Mr. G. was glad of «uch an op- 
portunity of signalizing himself. Accordingly, he 
had planted his colours on an advanced ground, and 
while he was calling -to the men, (probably in that 
horrid language which is so peculiar a disgrace to our 
soldiery,) he received a shot ia his mouth, which, with- 



(3) 

#ut beating out any of his teetli, or touching the 
forepart of his tongue, went through his neck. Not 
feeling, at first, the pain of the stroke, he wondered 
what was becom-e of the ball, and, in the wildness of 
his surprise, began to suspect he had svvailowed it ; but, 
dropping soon after he traced the passage of it by his 
finger, when he could discover it no other way. 

This accident happened about five or six in the 
evening, on the 23d of May, in the yei r 1706; and 
the army pursuing its advantages against the French, 
without regarding the w^ounded, our young officer 
lay all night in the field, agitated, as may well be* 
supposed, with a great variety of thoughts. When 
Jie reflected upon the circumstances of his wound, 
that a ball should, as he then conceived it, go through 
his head without killing him, he thought God had 
preserved him by a miracle ; and therefore assuredly 
concluded that he should live, abandoned and despe- 
rate as his condition then seemed. Yet had he little 
thoughts of humbling himself before God, and return- 
ing to him after the wanderings of a life so licenti- 
ously begun. But hoping he should recover, his mind 
was taken up with contrivances to secure his gold, of 
which he had nearly 20 pistoles about him, and had 
recourse to a very odd expedient. Expecting to be 
stripped, he took out a handful of clotted gore, of 
which he was frequently obliged to clear his mouth ; 
and putting it into his left hand, he took out his mo- 
ney, and, shutting his hand, besmeared the back of it 
with blood; in this position he kept it, till the blood 
so dried, that his hand could not easily fall open. 

In the morning, the French, who were masters of 
that spot, though defeated at some distance, came to 
plunder the slain, and seeing him, to appearance, al- 
most expiring, one of them was just applying a sword 
to his breast, to destroy the little remainder of life ; 
when, in the critical moment, a cordelier, who attend- 
«d them, interposed, taking him by his dress for a 

A 2 



(4) 

Frenchman, and said, ** Do not kill the poor child.** 
Our young soldier heard all that passed, though he was 
not able to speak one word ; and, opening his eyes, 
made a sign for something to drink. They gave him 
a sup of some spirituous liquor, which happened to be 
at hand ; from which he said he derived more sen- 
sible refreshment than he could remember from any 
thing he had ever tasted before or since. Then ask- 
ing, by signs, the friar to lean down his ear to his 
mouth, he employed the first efforts of his feeble 
breath in telling him (what, alas ! was a contrived 
falsehood) that he was iiej>!iew to the g< vernor of Huy 
a neutral town in the neighbourhood, and that, if they 
could convey him thither, he did not doubt but his 
iincle would liberally reward them. He had indeed a 
friend there, but the relationship was pretended. 
However, on hearing this, they laid him on a sort of 
band-barrow, and scut him with a file of musqueteers 
towards the place, but the men lost their way, and got 
into a wood towards the evening, in which they 
were obliged to continue all night. The poor pa- 
tient's wound being still undressed, it is not to be 
wondered at, that by this time it raged violently. 
The anguish of it engaged him earnestly to beg that 
they would either kill him outright, or leave him 
there to die, without the torture of any other 
motion ;'and indeed they were obliged to rest for a con- 
siderable time, on account of their own weariness. 
Thus he spent the second night in the open air, with- 
out any thing more than a common bandage to staunch 
the blood, and he often mentioned it as a most a94o- 
jaishing providence, that he did not bleed to death. 

Judging it quite unsafe to attemj)t 'carrying him^ 
to Huy, whence they were now several miles distant, 
bis convoy took him early in the morning to ^ con- 
vent in the neigbourhood, where he was hospitably 
received, ^nd treated with great kindness and tender- 
ness. But tlie cure of his wound was committedto 



(5) 

an Ignorant barber suigeon, who lived near the house: 
The tent which this artist applied was almost like a 
peg driven into the wound- yet, by the blessing of 
God, he recovered in a few months. The lady ab-> 
boss, who called him her son,, treated him with the 
affection and care of a mother, lie received a great 
many devout admonitions from the ladies there, and 
they would fain have persuaded him to acknowledj^e 
so miraculous a deliverance, by embracing the Ca- 
tholir Faith, as they were pleased to call it. But, 
though no religion lay near his heart,, he had too 
much of the spirit of a gentleoian, lightly to change 
that form of religion, which he wore loose about him ; 
as well as too much good sense, to swallow the absur- 
dities of popery. 

When his jiberty was regained by an exchange of 
prisoners, and his health established, he was Tar from 
rendering untoi:he Lord according to the mercy he 
had experienced. Very little is known of the parti- 
culars of those wild and thoughtless years which lay 
between the 19th and 30th of his life; except that he 
experienced the divine goodness in preserving him in 
several hot military actions ; and yet, these years were 
spent in an entire alienation from God, and an eager 
pursuit of sensual pleasure as his supreme good. 

Amidst all these wanderings from religion, virtue, 
and happiness, he approved himself so well in his 
military character, that he was made a lieutenant in 
1708 ; and, after several intermediate promotions, ap- 
pointed major of a regiment, commanded by the Earl 
of Stair. In January 1729-30, he was advanced to the 
rank of lieutenant-colonel in the same regiment; 
and here continue^t till April 1743, when he received 
a coloneFs commission over a regiment of diagoons, 
at the head of which he valiantly fell, about two years 
and a half after he received it. 

We now return to that period of his life, which 
passed at Paris, where he resided in the family of the 



(«) 

Earl of Stair, with some interruptions, till about the 
yeiir 1720, 

The Earl's favour and generosity made him easy 
in his afiairs, thoug*: he was, part of the time, out of 
eonnniEsion, the regiment to which he belonged being 
disbanded. This wf^s, in M probability, the gayest 
part of his life, and the most criminal. Whatever 
good examples he might find in the family where he 
lived, it is certain that the French Court was one of 
the most desolute under heaven. What, by a wretch- 
ed abuse of language, have been called intrigues of 
love and gr;!aiitry, constituted, if not the whole 
business, at least the whole liappiness of his life ; and 
his fine constitution, than which, perhaps, there was 
hardly ever a better, gave him great opportunities of 
indulging himself in those excesses; while his good 
spirits enabled him to pursue his pleasures, in such a 
manner, that multitudes envied him, and called him by 
a dreadful kind of compliment, '* The happy rake.'' 

Yet the checks of conscience, and some remaining 
principles of so good an education, would break in 
upon his most licentious hours: and when some of his 
dissolute companions were once congratulating him 
upon his felicity, a dog happening at that time to 
come into the room, he coujji not forbear groaning 
inwardly, and saying to himself, "Oh! that I were 
that dog!" Such tvas then his happiness, and such 
perhaps is that of hundreds more, who bear themselves 
highest in the contempt of religion, and glory in that 
infamous servitude which they affect to call liberty. 

Yet in tlie most abandoned days, he was never fond 
of intemperate drinking, from which he used to think 
or msinly pride might be sufficient to preserve persons 
of sense and spirit: so that, if he ever fell into any ex- 
«eesses of that kind, it was merely out of complaisance. 
His frank, obliging, and generous temper, procured 
liim many friends ; and those principles, which ren- 
«fered him amiable to others, not being under th^ 



( 7 ) 

direction of wisdom and piety, sometimes made Ivin: 
more uneasy to himself, than he perhaps might have 
been if he could entirely have outgrown them ; espe- 
cially as he was never a sceptic in his heart; but still 
retained a secret apprehension, that natural and re- 
vealed religion was founded in truth. And with this 
conviction, his notorious violations of the most esseji- 
tint precepts of both could not but occasion some secret 
misgivings /)f heart. His continual neglect of the great 
Author of his being, of whose perfections he could not 
doubt, and to whom he knew himself to be under daily 
and perpetual obligations, gave him, in some moments 
of involuntary reflection, inexpi-essible remorse; and. 
this, at times, wrought upon him to such a degree^ 
that he resolved he would attempt to pay him some 
acknowledgments. Accordingly, for a few mornings 
he did it; repeating, in retirement, some passages out 
of the Psalms and other Scriptures, which he still re- 
tained in his memory; and owning, in a few strong 
word?, the many mercies and deliverances he bad 
received, and the ill returns he made for them. 

But these strains were too devout to continue long 
in a heart as yet unsanctified : for, how readily soever, 
he could repeat such acknowledgments of the divine 
power and goodness, and confess his own follies and 
faults, he was stopt short by the remonstrances of his 
conscience, as to the flagrant absurdity of confessing 
sins he did not desire to forsake, and of pretending 
to praise Gt)d foe his mercies, when he did not endea- 
vour to live to his i^ervice^ A model of devotionj^ 
where such sentiments made no part, his good sense 
could not digest; and the use of such language before 
a heartsearching God, merely as a hyprocritical form, 
while the sentiments of his soul were contrary to it, 
appeared to him such daring profaheness, that, irre- 
gular as the state of his mind was, the thought of it 
struck him with horror. He therefore determined to 
make no more attemiJts of this sort; and was perhaps 



( 8 ) 

cwye of the first that deliberately laid aside pTayer, frara 
some sense of God's omniscience, and some natural 
principal of hononr and conscience. 

These secret debates with himself, and ineliectual 
efforts, uould sometimes return; but they were over- 
borne, attain and again, by the force of temptation ; 
and it is no wonder, thai in consequence of them his 
heart grew sfill harder. Neither was it softened or 
awakened by tlie very memorable deliverance which 
at this time he received. Once he was in extreme 
danger from a fall from his horse. As he was riding 
fast down a hill, the horse threw him over his head, 
«nd pitched over him; so that when he rose, the 
beast lay beyond him, and almost dead. Yet, though 
he received not the least harm, it made no serious 
impression on his mind. On his return from England 
in the packet-boat, but a few weeks after the former 
accident, a violent storm, that drove them up to 
Harwich, tossed them from thence for several hours, 
in a dark niglit, on the coast of Holland, and brought 
thern into such extremity, that the captain of the ves- 
sel urged liim to go to prayers immediately, if he 
ever intended to do it at ail ; for he concluded they 
-would in a few minutes be at the bottom of the sea. 
in these circumstances, he did pray, and that very 
tei venily too ; and it was rernarkeable, that \^hile he 
he was crying to God for deliverance, the wind fell, 
and, quickly after, they arrived at Calais. But the 
Major was so little affected at what had befallen 
iiim, that, when some of his gay friends, on hearir^g 
the story, rallied him upon the efficacy of his prayers, 
he excused himself from the scandal of being thought 
much in earnest, by saying,*' that it was at midnight, 
an hour when his good mother and aunt were asleep ; 
or else he should have left that part of the business to 
them." 

We now come to the account of his conversion. 
This memorable event happened towards the niiddk 



(9 ) 

^f Jiily, 1719. The Major had spent the everting, 
(^hich was the Sabbath,) in some gay company, and 
had an unhappy assignation with a married lady 
whom he was to attend exactly at twelve. The 
company broke up about eleven ; and he went into 
his chamber to kill the tedious hour. It happened 
that he took up a religious book (which his good 
mother or aunt had, w ithout his knowledge, slipped 
into his portmeanteau,) called, *' The Christian Sol- 
dier, or Heaven taken by a Storm ;^'' written by Mr, 
Thomas Watson. Quessing by the title, that he should 
find some phrases of his own profession spiritualized, 
in a manner which might afford him some diversion^ 
he resolved to dip into it; but took no serious notice 
of any thinj^ he read : and yet, wl^ile this book was 
in his hand, 311 inapression was made upon his mind, 
(perhaps God only knows how,) which drew after it 
a train of the most important and happy consequences. 

Suddenly be thought Jie saw an unusual blaze of 
light fall on the book while be was reading, which 
he at first imagined might have happened by some 
accident in the candle. But lifting up his eyes, he ap- 
prehended, to his extreme amazement, that there was 
before him, as it were suspended in the air, a visible 
representation of the Lord Jesus Christ upon the 
cposs, surrounded witb a glory; and was impressed as 
if a voice or something equivolent to a voice, had 
come to him to this effect; " O sinner did I suffer 
this for thee, and are these the feturns?'^ Birt whe 
tber this were an audible voice, or only a strong im- 
pr^ession on his mind equally striking, he did not seem 
confident, though he judged it to be the former. 
Struck with so amazing a phaenomenon, there re- 
mained hardly any life in him ; so that he sunk down 
in the armchair in 4vhich he sat, and continutd (he 
knew not exactly how long) insensible, and^ when he 
opened his eyes saw nothing more than usual. 

iLmay be easily supposed that he was in no condi 
A 3 



( 10 ) 

lion to make any observations upon the time in which 
he had remained insensible: nor did he, throughout 
all the remainder of the night, once recollect that crir- 
niinal assignation which bad before engrossed all his 
thoughts. He arose in a tumult oi passions not to 
be conceived and walked to and fro in his chamber, 
till he was ready to drop down, in unuterable asto- 
jfiishraent and agony of heart ; appearing to himself 
the vilest monster in the creation of God, who had, 
all his lifetime, been crufying Christ afresh by his 
sins, and now saw, as he assuredly believed, by a 
miraculous vision, the horror of what he had done.. 
With this was connected such a view, both of the 
majesty and goodness of God, as caused him to loathe 
and abhor himself, and to ** repent'^ as ** in dust and 
ashes." He immediaetly gave judgment against him- 
self that he was worthy of eternal damnation ; was asto- 
nished, that he had not been immediately struck dead 
in the midst of his wickedness; and (which deserves 
particular remark) though he assuredly believed that 
he should, ere long be in hell, and settled it as a point 
jwith himself for some months, that the wisdom and 
justice of God did most necessarily require that such 
an enormous sinner should be made an example of 
everlasting vengeance, and a spectacle, as such both 
to angels and men, so that he hardly durst presume to 
pray for pardon ; yet what then he suffered, was not 
so much from the fear of hell, though he concluded 
it must soon be his portion, as from a sense of the 
horrible ingratitude he had shewn to God of his 
life, and to that blessed Redeemer who had been in 
so affecting a manner set forth as crucified before him. 
In this view, it may naturally be inferred, that he 
passed the remainder of the night waking; and -he 
could get but little rest in several tliat followed. His 
mind was continually taken up in reflecting on the 
divine purity and goodness; the grace which had 
feeen proposed to him in the gospel, and which he 



( ir ) 

hnd rejected; the singular advantages lie bad enjoyed 
aad abused; and Ibe many favours of Providence be 
had received, particularly in rescuing bim from so 
many imminent dangers of deatb, wbicb be now saw 
imist bave been attended with such dreadful and 
hopeless destruction. The priviliges of bis educa- 
tion, which be bad so much despised, lay with an 
almost insupportable weight on his mind ; and the 
folly of that career of sinful pleasure, which be bad 
so many years being running, with desperate eagerness, 
filled him with indignation against himself, and 
against the great deceiver, by whom (to use his own 
phrase^) be had been ?* so> wretchedly and scanda- 
lously befooled/' 

The mind of Major Gardiner continued from this 
remarkable time^ rather more than three months, 
(but especially th^ two first of them,) in as extraor- 
dinary a situation as one can well imagine. He knew 
nothing of the joys arising from a sense of pardon ; 
bat, pn the contrary, for the greater part of that time, 
and with very short intervals of hope, towards the 
end of it, took it for granted that be must, in all 
probdlity, . quickly perish. Nevertheless he bad 
such a sense of the evil of sin, of the goodness of the 
Divine Being, and of the admirable tendency of the 
Christian revelation^ that he resolved to spend the 
remainder of his life, while God continued him out 
of bell, in as rational and as useful a manner as he 
could ; and to continue casting himself at the feet of 
Divine Mercy, every day, and often in a day, if per- 
,-adventure there might be hope of pardon, of which 
aU that he could say, was, that he did not absolutely 
despair. He had, at that time, such a sense of the de- 
generacy of his own heart, that be hardly durst form 
any determinate resolution -against sin, or pretend to 
engage himself by any vow in the presence of God, 
but was coutinually crying to bim, that he would 
deliver bim from the bondage of corrnption, «fle 



( 12 ) 

perceived in himself a most surprising alteration, w itfj 
regard to the disposition of his heart; so that, though 
he lelt ajiittle of the delights of religious duties, he ex- 
tremely desired opportunities of being engaged in 
ihem ; and those licentious pleasures which had be- 
fore been his heaven, were now absolutely his aver- 
sion, and he was grieved to see human nature, even 
in those to whom he was a stranger, prostituted to 
such low and contemptible pursuits. He therefore 
exerted his natural courage in a new kind of combat, 
and became an open advocate for religion, in all its 
principles, so far as he was acquainted with them, 
and all its precepts, relating to sobriety, righteous- 
ness, and godliness. Yet he was very desirious, and 
cautious, that he might not run into an extreme; and 
Blade it one of his ficst petitions to God, the very 
day after these imazing impressions had b^en wrought 
in his mind, that he might not be suffered to behave 
with such an affected strictness and preciseness, as 
would lead others about him into mistaken notions 
of religion, and expose it to reproach or suspicion^, 
as if it were an unlovely or uncomfortable things 
For this reason, he endeavoured to appear as cheer- 
ful in conversation as he conscientiously could :, 
though, in spite of all his precautions, some traces of 
that deep inward sense which he had of his guilt and 
misery would at times appear. He made no secret 
of it, however, that his views were entirely changed^, 
though he concealed the particular circumstances at- 
tending that change. He told his most intimate com- 
paniouij freely, that he had reflected on the course of 
life in which he had so long joined thefli, and found, 
it to be folly and madness, Ainworthy a rational crea- 
ture; and much more unworthy persons calling them- 
selves Christians. And he ^et up his standard, upon all 
occasions, against infidelity and vice, as delerminately 
as he ever he planted his colours in the field. There 
was at that time at Paris a certaiu lady Who had im- 



i4 



( 13 ) 

bibed the principles of deism, and valued herself mueh 
upon being the avowed advocate for them. 

The Major with his usual frankness, (though with 
that politeness which was habitual to him) answered 
like a man who perfectly saw through the falli^cy of 
her arguments^ and was grieved to the heart for her 
delusion. On this, she challenged him to debate the 
matter at large, and to lix upon a day for that pur- 
pose, when he should dine with her, attended with 
any clergyman he might choose. A sense of duty 
would not allow him to decline this challenge ; and 
yet he had no sooner accepted it, than he was thrown 
into great perplexity and distress, lest, being only a 
Christian of six weeks old,, he should prejudice so 
good a cause, by his unskilful manner of defending 
it. Howe\er, he sought his refuge in earnest and 
repeated prayers to God, that he would graciously 
enable him, on this occasion, to vindicate his truths 
in a manner which might carry conviction along 
with it. He then endeavoured to marshal the argu-? 
ments in his own mind, as wttW as he could ; anxi ap- 
prehending that he could not speak with io much, 
free lorn oefore a number of persons, especially be- 
ibre -iuch whose province he might in that case seem 
to invade,^ he waited on the lady aloae apon the day 
appointed,. 

The Major opened the conference with a view o£ 
SiUch a arguments of the Chribtian religion as he had 
digested in his own mind, to prove that the Apostles. 
were not mistaken themselves, and that they could 
not have intended to impose upon us ki th€ aeconnts, 
they giv^ of the grand facts they attest ; with the 
truth of which facts that of the Christian religion is 
mo'-t apparently connected. And it was a great en- 
couragement to him to find that, unaccubtomed as 
he was to discourses of this nature, he had an unusual^ 
COiiimaud both of thought^ and expression ; so that 
fee recolleated and uttered every thing, as he could 



( 14 ■) 

have Wisbech: The ladv heard with attention, till he 
Uid fijiished his design, and waited for her reply,- 
She then produced some of he objeetioifs, which he 
cai)vassed in such a manner, that, at length, she burst 
out into tears, allowed the frrce of bis arguments 
and replies, and appeared, for some time after, so 
deeply impressed with the conversation, that it was 
observed by several of her friends: and there is reason 
to believe,, that the impression continued, at least sa 
far as to prevent her from ever appearing under the 
character,of an unbeliever, era sceptic. This is only 
one among many of the battles he was ahnost daily 
called out to fight in the cause of religion and virtue. 
The continual railleries with whicb he was received, 
in almost till companies where he had been most, fa- 
miliar before, did often distress him beyond measuse ; 
so that he declared, he would much rather have 
marched up to a battery of the enemy's caiinon, than 
have been' obliged, so continually as he was, to face- 
such artillery as this. But, like a brave soldier in 
the first action wherein he is engaged, he continued 
resolute, though shuddering at the terror of the assault ; 
and quickly overcame those impressions which it is 
not, perhaps^ in nature, wholly to avoid. In a word, 
he went on as every Christian, by divine grace, may 
do, till he turned ridicule and opposition into respect 
and veneration. ^ 

Within about two months after his ntst memorable 
chaniie, he began to perceive some secret dawnings- 
of more cheerful hope, that, vile as he then saw him- 
self to be, he might nevertheless obtajn mercy through 
a Redeemer ; and, at length, about the end of October 
1719, Ire found all the burden of his mind taken off 
at once, by the powerful impression of that memora- 
ble seripture upon his mind; (Rom, iii. 25, 26.) 
•' Whom God hath set forth for a propitiation, 
throuoh faith in his blood, to declare his righteous- 
Bess for the remission of sins— that he might be just, 



(15) 

and the justifier of him that believetb in Jesus/* IT^ 
had used to imagine, that the justice of God required 
the damnation of so enormous a sinner, as he saw 
himself to be : but now he was made deeplv sensible, 
that the divine justice might not only be vindicated, 
but glorified, in saving him by the blood of Jesus, 
even that blood which cleanseth from all sin. He 
was led to see and feel the richer of redeeming love 
and grace, in such a manner, as not only engaged 
him with the utmost pleasure and confidence, to 
venture his soul upon them : but even swallowed up 
(as it w^ere) his whole Jieart iri the returns of love, 
which, from that blessed time, became the genuine 
and delightful principle of obedience, and animated 
him with an enlarged heart to run the ways x)f God's 
commandments. Thus God was pleased, (as he liim- 
self used to speak,) in an hour, to turn his captivity. 
All the terrors of his former state were turned into 
unutterable joy. And though the first extasies of it 
afterwards subsided into a more calm and composed 
delight ; yet were the impressions so deep and so per- 
manent, that he declared, on the word of a Christian 
and a friend, wonderful as it might seem that for 
about seven years after this he enjoyed nearly a 
heaven upon earth. His soul was almost continually 
filled witli a sense of the love of God in Christ : so 
that, from the time of his waking in the morning, 
his heart was rising to God, and triumphing in him ; 
and these thoughts attended him through all the 
day, till he lay down on his bed again, and a short 
parenthesis of sleep (for it was but very short one 
thai he allowed himself) invigorated his animal pow- 
ers for renew iiig those thoughts with greater intense- 
nes? and sensibility. 

A life, any thing like this, could not be entered 
upt'ii, m the midst of such company as he was 
obliged to keep, without great opposition He, 
j^owevei; early began a practice, which • to the last 



(160 

c}^ of his life, he retained, of reproving vice and ^ 
5>rofanenes.^ ; and was never afraid to debale the mat» 
t€r whh any, under the consciousness of such superiority 
in rhe goodness of his cause. 

A remarkable instance of this happened about the 
middle of the year 1720, on 1) is first return to make 
any considerable abode in England after bis remark- 
ahle change. He had heard on the other side of the 
water, liiat it was currenlJy reported among his com- 
panions at home that he was stark mad ;, a report at 
which no reader, who knows the wisdom of the 
world in these matters wil? be much surprised. He 
hence conclivded that he should have many battles to 
iigiij, and was willing to dispatch the business as fast 
as he could. And, therefore, being to spend a few 
days at the country-house of a pejrson of distinguished . 
rank,, with whom he had been, very intimate, he 
begged the favour of him, that he would contrive 
matters so, that, a day or two after he came down, , 
several of their former gay companions might meet 
at his Lordship's table; that he might have an op- ~ 
portuuity of making his apology to them, and ac- 
qqaiiitjng them with the Oi^ture and reasons of his - 
change. . It was accordingly agreed to ; and a pretty 
large company met on . ttje day appointed, with pre- 
vious notice that, Major Gardiner would be there - 
A. good dealof ruiliery passed at dinner, to which the - 
Major made very little answer. But whea the cloth ? 
was taken away, and the servants had retired^ he 
begiijed their patience for a few minutes, and then . 
plainly and seriously told them what notions he enter- - 
tained of virtue ai>d religion, and on what cx>nsidera- 
tioas he had absolutely determined, Jhat, by the grace 
of G d, he would make them the care and business 
of his life, whatever he might io^e by it, and whatever 
eenUire and contempt he might iticur. He well knew , 
how uproper it was, in sucli compa a , to relate the/ 
extraordinary manoev in which he was. awakened ; 



( 17 ) 

vliicb they would probably have interpreted as n 
demonstration of lunacy, against all the gravity and 
solidity of his discourse ; but he contented himself 
_ with such a rational defence of a righteous, sober, and 
godly life, as lie knew none of them could with any 
shadow of reason contest. He then challenged them 
to propose any thing they could urge, to prove that 
a life of irreligion and debauchery was preferable to 
the fear, love, and worship, of the eternal God, and 
a conduct agreeable to the precepts of his gospel. 
And he failed not to bear his testimony, from his own 
experience, (to one part of which many of them had 
been witnesses,) that, after having run the round of 
sensual pleasure, with all the advantages the best 
constitution and spirits could give him, he had never 
tasted any thing deserving to be called happiness, till 
he made religion his refuge and delight. He testi- 
$ed, calmly and boldly, the habitual serenity and 
peace that he now felt within his own breast, and 
V the composure and pleasure with which he looked 
forward to objects which the gayest sinner must ac- 
knowledge to be equally unavoidable and dreadful. 

Upon this, the master of the table, a person of a 
very frank and candid disposition, cut short the de- 
bate by saying, ** Come, let us call another cause : 
we thought this man mad, and he is in good earnest 
proving that we are so.'' On the whole, this well- 
judged circumstance saved him a good deal of fur- 
ther trouble. When his former acquaintances observed 
that he was still conversable and innocently cheerful, 
and that he was immovable in his resolution, they 
desisted from further importunity. And he declared, 
that instead of losing any one valuable friend by^ this 
change in his character, he found himself much more 
esteemed and regarded by many who could not per- 
suade themselves to imitate his example. 

Nothing remarkable occurred in the Colonel's life^ 
from this period till the year 1726, when he marrie(ife 



( 18 ) 

the Lady Francis Erskine, daughter to the Earl of 
Buchan, by whom he had 13 children, (ire of whom 
survived their father. 

Before the close of these short memoirs, it mv\y 
not be improper, or without it use, to give the reader 
a sketch of the character of this excellent man, with 
reference to his particular relative situations ; in some 
or other of which the reader may certainly find a 
model w^orthy of his imitation. 

To view him firsfin the calmness of domestic life, 
and at the head of his affectionate family— It will na- 
turally be supposed, that, as soon as he had a house, 
hej erected an altar in it: that the word of God was 
read there, and prayers and praises constantly offered. 
These were not to be omitted on account of any 
guest ; for he esteemed it a part of due respect to those 
that remained under his roof, to take it for granted, 
they would look upon it as a very bad compliment, to 
imagine they would have been obliged by his ne- 
glecting the duties of rejigion on their account. As 
his family increased, he had a minister statedly resi- 
dent in his house, who discharged the oflices ^ tutor 
and chaplain, and was always- treated with kindness 
and respect. He was constant in his attendance on 
public worship, in which an exemplary care was ta- 
ken that the children and servants might accompany 
the heads of the fi^juily. 

The necessity of being so many months together 
distant from home, hindered him from many of those- 
condescending labours, in cultivating the minds of 
his children in early life, which to a soul so benevo- 
lent so wise and so zealous, would ^undoubtedly have 
afforded a very exqaisite pleasure: but ^^hen he was 
with them, he failed not to instruct and admonish 
them; and the constant deep sense with which he 
spoke of divine things, and the real unaffected in- 
difference which he always showed for what this vain > 
world is most ready to admire, were daily lessons of: 



( 10 ) 

wisdom j^nd of piet3\ And it was easy to perceive 
that the openings of genius, in the young branches of 

his family, gave him great delight, and that he had a 
secret ambition to see them excel in what they un- 
dertook. Yet, he was very jealous over his hearty 
lest he should be too fondly attaclied to^hem, and 
was an eminent proficient in the blessed science of 
resignation to the divine will. 

To consider his character in the domestic relation 
of a master — It is proper to remark, that as his habi- 
tual meekness, and command of his passions, prevent- 
ed indecent -^sallies of ungovernable anger tov^ards 
those in a state of subjection to him, so the natural 
greatness of his mind made him solicitous to render 
their inferior stations as ea^y as he could ;r and he had 

Iso such a sense of the dignity and worth of an im- 
inoftal soul, as engaged him to give his servants fre- 
quent religious exhortations and instructions. 

To consider him in his millitary character — His 
bravery was as remarkable i^ the field of battle, as 
his milder virtues in the domestic circle ; and he was 
particularly careful to prevent the various duties of 
religion, and his profession, from interfering with 
one another, either in himself, or in others. He 
therefore abhored every thing that should look like 
a contrivance- to keep the soldiers employed about 
their horses and their arms, at the season of public 
worship • far from that, he used to have them drawn 
up just before it began, and from the parade they 
went off to the house of God, where they behaved 
with as much reverence, gravity, and decorum, dur- 
ing the time of divine service, as any of their fellow- 
worshippers. 

That his remarkable care to maintain good dis- 
cipline among them might be the more effectual, he 
made himself, on all occasions, accessible to them, and 
expressed a great concern for their interest, temporal 
as well as spiritual ; yet he had all the firmness 



( 20) 

requisite to the infliction of punishment, where he 
judged it necessary. 

We may notice one instance of his conduct, which 
happened at Leicester. While part of his regiment 
was encamped in that neighbourhood, the Colonel 
went incognito to the camp, in the middle of the 
night; for he sometimes lodged at his quarters in the 
town. One of the centinels had abandoned his post,, 
and, on being seized, broke out into some oaths and 
profane execrations ae^ainst those that discovered 
him — a crime of which the Colonel hac[ the greatest^ 
abhorrence, and on which he never failfjji to aninwid- 
vert. The man afterwards appeared mtjcii ashamed, 
and concerned for what he had done. 'But the Co- 
lonel ordered him to be brought early the next morn- 
ing to his own quarters, where he had prepared a 
piquet, on which he appointed him a private sort of 
penance, and vi'hiie he was put upon it he dis- 
coursed with him seriously and tenderly upon the 
evils and aggravations of his faults ; admonishing hiiu 
of the divine displeasure which he had incurred ; and 
urged him to argue, from the pain which he then 
feit, how infinitely more dreadful it imist be to fall 
into the hands of the livmg God," and to meet the 
terrors of that damnation which he had been accus- 
tomed impiously to call upon himself and his^ com- 
panions. The result of this proceeding was, that 
the offender accepted his punishment, not only with 
submission, but with thankfulness; and spoke of it 
some years after in such a manner, that ther^ seemed 
reason to hope it had been instrumental in producing 
a change in his heart, as well as in his life. 

Indeed this excellent othcer afw/^.ys expressed tha» 
greatest reverence for the name v,f the blessed God; 
and endeavoured to suppress, and, if possible, to ex-, 
tirpate, that detestable sin of swearing and cursing,, 
which is every where so common, and especiallyv 
among our military men. He often declared hi^ 



( 21 ) 

sentiments with respect to this enormity, at the head 
of the regiment, and urged his captains, and their 
subalterns, to take the greatest care that they did not 
give the sanction of their example to that, which by 
their office they were obliged to punish in others. 
His zeal on these occasions, wrought in a very active 
and sometimes in a reuirirably successful manner, 
among not only his equals but his superiors too. 

Nor was his charity less conspicuous than his zeal. 
The lively and tender feelings of his heart engaged 
liim to dispense bis bounties with a liberal hand: and 
above all, his sincere and ardent love to the Lord 
Jesus Cbiist led him to feel, with a true sympathy, 
the concerns of his poor members. In consequence 
of this, he honoured several of his friends wrlh com- 
missions for the relief of the poor; and esteemed it 
an honour which Providence conf^irred upon him, 
that he should be made the Lord's almoner for the 
relief of such. 

That heroic contempt of death, which bad often 
discovered itself in the midst of former dangers, was 
manifested now in his discourse with several of his 
most intimate friends. And as he had, in former 
years, often expressed a desire, ** that, if it were the 
will of God, he might have some honourable call to 
sacrafice his life in defence of religion and the liber- 
ties of his country;" so, when it appeared to him 
most probably that he might be called to it imme- 
diately, he met the summons with the greatest readi- 
ness. This appears from a letter which he wrote 
only eight days before his death: " The rebels," 
says he, *' are advancing to cross the Frith; but I 
trust in the almighty God, who doetb whatsoever he 
pleases in the armies of heaven, and among the 
inhabitants of the earth. ^^ 

These sentiments wrought in him, to the last, in 

the most effectual manner. But he' was ordered to 

>3ttarch, ^s fast as possible, to Dunbar; and that hasty 



( 22 ) 

retreat, in concurrence with the news which they 
soon after received of the surrender of Edinburgh to 
the rebels, struck a visible panic into both the regi- 
ments of dragoons. This affected the Colonel so 
much, that, on the Thursday before the fatal action 
at Preston-Pans, he intimated to an officer of consi- 
derable rank, that he expected the event would be as 
in fact it proved, and to a person who visited him, 
he said, " I cannnot influence the conduct of others 
as I could wish, but 1 have one life to sacrafice to my 
country's safety, and 1 shall not spare it." 

On Friday, Sept. 20, (the day before the battle 
which transmitted him to his immortal crown,) when 
the whole army was drawn 'up about noon, the Co- 
lonel rode through all the ranks of his own regiment, 
addressing them at once in the most respectful and 
animating manner, both as soldiers and as christians, 
to engage them to exert themselves courageously in 
the service of their country, and to neglect nothing 
that might have a tendency to prepare them for 
whatever event might happen. Th^y seemed much 
affected with the address, and expressed a very ardent 
desire of attacking the enemy immediately; a desire, 
in which he and another gallant officer of distin- 
guished character would gladly have gratified them, 
if it had been in the power of either ; but they were 
over-ruled, and he spent the remainder of the day 
in making as good a disposition as circumstances 
would allow. 

He coniinued all night under arms, wrapped up in 
his cloak and sheltered under a rick of barley which 
happened to be in the field. About three in the morn- 
ing, he called his domestic servants to him, of whom 
there were four in waiting. He dismissed three of 
ihem with the most affectionate christian advice, and 
such solemn charges relative to the performance of 
their duty, and care of their souls, as seemed plainly 
to intimate that he apprehended he was, probably. 



(23 ) 

taking his last farewell of tlieni. There is grent 
reason to believe that he spent the little remainder 
of time, which could not be much above an hour, 
in those devout exercises of soal, which had so 
long been habitual to him. The army \7as alarmed, 
by brealt of day, by the noise of the rebels* approach, 
and the attack was made before sunrise. As soon as 
the enemy came within gunshot, they commenced 
a furious tire ; and the dragoons, which constituted 
the left wing, immediately fled. The Colonel, at 
the beginning of the attack, which, in the whole, 
lasted but a few minutes, received a bullet in his left 
breast, which made him give a sudden spring in his 
saddle ; upon which, his servant, who had led the horse 
would have persuaded him to retreat, but he said it 
was only a wound in the flesh ; and fought on, though 
he presently received a shot in the right thigh. The 
Colonel was, for a few moments, supported by his 
men, and particularly about fifteen dragoons, who 
stood by him to the last. But after a faint fire, the 
regiment in general was seized with a panic ; and 
though the Colonel and some gallant oflicers did 
what they could to rally them, once or twice, they 
at last took a precipitate flight. Just in the moment 
when Colonel Gardiner seemed to be making a f)ause, 
to deliberate what duty required him to io in such 
circumstances, he saw a party of the foot who were 
then bravely fighting near him, but had no oflicer 
to head them ; upon which he rode up to them imme- 
diately, and cried out aloud, " Fire on, my lads, and 
fear nothing." But just as the words were out of 
his mouth, a Highhinder advanced to him with a 
Tscythe fastened to long pole, with which he gave 
Ihim such a deep wound on his right arm, that his 
[sword dropped out of his hand ; and, at the same time 
[several others^ coming about him while he was thus 
[dreadfully entangled with that cruel weapon, he 
Iwas dragged oflf his horse. The moment he fell^ 



( 24 ) ■ 

another Highlander gave him a stroke, either with a 
broadsword, or a Lochaber-axe, on the h^ad, which 
was the mortal blow. All that his faithful attendant 
saw further at this time was, that, as his hat was 
falling off, he took it in his left hand, and waved it 
as a signal for him to retreat, adding, (which were the 
Inst words he ever heard him speak,) "Take care of 
yourself:" upon which, the servant immediately fled 
to a mill, at the distance of about two miles from the 
spot on which the Colonel fell ; where he changed 
his dress, and, disguised like a miller's servant, re- 
turned with a caM about two hours after the engage- 
ment. The hurry of the action was then pretty well 
over, and he found his much honoured master hot 
only plundered of his watch and other things of value, 
but also stripped of his upper garments and boots, 
yet still breathing ; and adds, that though he was 
not capable of speech, yet, on taking him up, he 
opened his eyes, which makes it something question- 
able whether he was altogether insensible. In this 
condition, and in this manner, he conveyed him to 
the church of Tranent, whence he was immediately 
taken into the minister's house, andHaid in a bed. 
where he continued breathing till about eleven in the 
forenoon, when he took his final leave of pain and 
sorrow. His remains were interred the Tuesday 
following. Sept. 21, at the parish church of Trenant, 
(where he had usually attended divine service,)' with 
^reat solemnity. 



B U B L I N: 

Printed and Sold by John Parry^ 

For the Religious Tract Society, 
At the Depositary, 35^ Anglesea-street, 

Second Edition. 



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